More Writing Prompts

Boy do I stink at actually following through on doing things I said I was going to do without any sort of external motivation or control. It has been way too long since I updated this blog. I am just lazy and also I very much do not feel like doing pretty much anything after I get home from work.

One thing that has had me stuck is the next writing prompt in order for the Writing Excuses podcast. I was just not getting any ideas for it. Which I used as an excuse to not write. So lets just skip that one and try to do another one.

"Write a scene from the point of view of a front line grunt in an army of the undead. And no using the word brains"

Samuel had come to a realization days ago. He had realized that he had to add meaning to his own life. That he had to set his own goals and aims. Otherwise none of this meant anything. Nothing he was fighting so hard for was worth anything at all if he did not give it worth. So as he and his comrades in arms lined up to once again charge the walls of the castle he surveyed the path before him; peering, searching, trying to find some personal goal to drive his efforts towards.

As the signal to charge sounded across the battlefield, he and the rest of the ranks began to surge forward. They moved in a slow, shambling gait at first but soon broke in to a full run, the clacking noise of their footsteps echoing against the nearby fortress walls failed to reach their now useless ears. Though he was now incapable of uttering a battle cry, he sounded one within his own thoughts anyways as he charged up the pile of broken bodies and shattered bones heaped before the castle's walls. He had his goal in sight now, a portion of the wall of corpses that was high enough that he might be able to reach the top of the stone walls with a good leap. Slipping and sliding on his fallen comrades he made his way up to the spot and leaped. His bony fingers found purchase and he heaved himself up and over the wall.

In his own head he exulted with joy, he had done it. He had achieved the goal he set out to accomplish. Perseverance, hard work, and consistent reanimation really did pay off in the end. Turning to find a way down from the wall he barely had time to register movement as a very large armored figure swung an equally large sword into him, cleaving his skull from his body. As his head flew through the air down into the castle grounds he saw his body fall backwards off the wall and out of sight. He landed and bounced a few times, finally coming to rest under a horse cart near the bottom of the wall. Now as a bodiless skull he was trapped here until someone found him. But hey, at least he had made it inside. As he had said, it was all about those little personal goals; that was what it took to give unlife meaning.